The woman said quickly: “Come on, honey. Come home with me where the soldiers won’t worry you.”
The boy looked at the woman. “Where the soldiers wouldn’t worry him,” he thought. If he went with her, he’d be safe. He shuddered at the thought of being alone with her, but he was more frightened of the soldiers.
The sailor put his head on his arms. “You go to hell,” he said, and began to snore drunkenly.
The boy pushed back his chair hurriedly and went across to the woman. “Take me to your place,” he whispered urgently. “Now—at once.”
The woman stared at him. What she saw didn’t give her any confidence. This was just a down-at-heel bum. A kid without any dough. “Go climb an alp,” she said, “I’m busy.” And she shook the sailor roughly.
Shivering, the boy pulled out some money. He opened his fist under her eyes and showed her several crumpled bills. “Don’t wait for him—take me.”
The woman looked down at the notes. She forgot the sailor. A fixed smile came to her lips and she got up. “Sure,” she said, “you come along with me. For that amount of dough I’ll give you a good time. I’m Therese. It’s a nice name, ain’t it?”
The boy was so anxious to get out of the bar that he didn’t hear what she said. He said, urgently: “Is it far? Come on, let’s get outta here.”
She went with him into the dark, hot night. “It’s behind the Custom shed,” she said. “Hey, not so fast! Where’s the fire?”
The boy went on, moving through the narrow back streets fast. He didn’t look back, although he wanted to, because he was scared that Therese would suspect something was wrong and would not give him shelter.